What comes to mind when we think of our dad, our father, and our father figures, contributes to the trajectory of our lives.

Intuition in Action

Sometimes positive father-memories help us to soar.

“A New York ad agency art director was stumped on how to satisfy his biggest client, a clothing manufacturer.

The campaign he had presented had fallen flat and not met the client’s expectations.

A picture of his boyhood memories kept haunting his mind, one of Coney Island where his father used to take him on weekends for ice cream. This image that kept playing in his head prompted him to use his intuition and incorporate it as the central theme for a new campaign. The concept would center on the clothes as elegant and timeless, while using images of family, like a father and son at Coney Island.” 1

His father’s caring support helped his son to soar professionally.

Intimacy in Absentia

While sometimes positive father-memories help us to soar, other times they sadly hurt, hamper or handcuff us in the embrace of hate.

“I’d never heard my father cry before. How many times had I tried my best to hate that complicated man.

But this tiny piece of me kept thinking back to another, happier time, when Mom loved Dad. And me. And Dad loved Mom. And me. At least as much as he could with that dead, cold space growing inside him, that place no amount of love could ever settle into. That impenetrable arctic land where his ghosts had carried his heart.

I Sort of Remember crawling up into Daddy’s lap, when Dad was still Daddy, nodding my head against his chest, soaking in the comfort of his heat, listening to the thump . . . thump, somewhere beneath muscle and breastbone.

I remember his arms, their sublime encircling, and the shadow of his voice: I love you, little girl. Put away your bad dreams. Daddy’s here.

I put them away. Until Daddy became my nightmare, the one that came home from work every day and, instead of picking me up, chased me far, far away.” 2

Her father’s anger and violence help to sink her spirit.

She’s full of anger. Her father, an alcoholic, who abuses her mother, is the target of her venom and the catalyst of her pain.

What comes to mind when we think of our dad, our father or our father figures contributes to the trajectory of our lives.

Unless we examine the signs of damage we may never see the trajectory change.